Last night, I promised myself that I would write this morning.
Write no matter what, no matter who, no matter how.
So here I am. Writing for you, wondering if you’ll read, wondering what you want me to write. Wondering… All the time, wondering.
Here I sit, fingers on keys, staring up at the mountain of the write-what’s-next, feeling that familiar pull of the words, the gravitational field of the story, yet all the time the fear of the fall.
I’ll walk that tightrope, for sure. Always. But, as ever, I doubt the safety net, doubt the welcome eyes, ears and hearts of readers and listeners.
Don’t place expectations, they say, don’t attach anything to your art
That way you won’t be disappointed
But I do.
I truly do.
I don’t make art to release, revive, or salve something within me. At some level, of course, that’s in the words and the stories, but it’s not what I feel as the muse. I don’t write as an observation or explanation of pain. I write for change. I write for love. I write for you.
These characters, their journeys through difficult times and trials, their resolution – sometimes good, sometimes not – all of it to say, “It’s OK, keep going”. And when I’m read or heard, when I get that glorious feedback that someone ‘got it’, someone was changed or enlightened by my art, that’s the moment when I tell myself, “It’s OK, keep going.” Those are the moments when the writing brings me worth.
The only expectation I place on my art: change one person’s experience of life for the better.
It’s a very high expectation to put on my own shoulders.
I could choose not to do so.
But I refuse. I flat out refuse.
So I stare up at the mountain, built not of the writing, but of the expectation that the writing serves a purpose, that the writing carries meaning.
I don’t doubt that the next step will come; the next word will be spoken, written, sung.
All it takes is speaking it, writing it, singing it.
And doing that while the fear of being ignored forms the drumbeat beneath the writing.
Can I do that?
Of course. Haven’t I been doing it forever? Is it not who I am?
Come on, off we go up mount write-what’s-next…